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Tales of Faerun


AurianaValoria1

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Rhaine sheathed her blade, its flames extinguishing in the scabbard. She was a bit surprised that Ivan had taken control of the situation and expressed his wishes so directly. Now that he had done so, she was obligated to see those wishes through. Exchanging looks with Azuris, she stepped closer to Ivan, "With the blessings of the gods, I can."

 

She extended one hand and began chanting the incantation for True Resurrection. Her emerald eyes closed as her mind focused on the words that tumbled from her lips in an almost unbroken flow. Whispers of magic accompanied her speech, echoing her phrases...it welled up from inside her and manifested in swirling golden energy that wrapped around first her arm and then Ivan's skeleton like smoke. There was a pull in her limbs that became stronger and stronger as the demand for more power increased, the light ever brightening around Ivan to recreate his flesh as it had been at the moment of his death. It became almost blinding, his entire form obscured by the divine energy at work. The sound of buckles and straps suddenly filled the air as even his equipment was brought back from the grave, fastening itself about him.

 

At last, the light faded, and the Doomguide's chant halted. There, where a skeleton was before, was a full flesh-and-blood man, armored from head to toe in leathers. Rhaine bent over and put her hands on her knees as she tried not to lose her strength to stand.

 

"Well," she finally said, slightly breathless, "That went better than I thought it would. I...haven't resurrected one quite so old before. I'm...a little drained..."

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Tak'we gave off a surprised chattering sound as he saw Rhaine turn the bones-that-walk into a fleshed, living creature. "Isss it posssible?" the thri'kreen stuttered himself as he stepped towards the softskin, not entirely believing his eyes. Hmm, smells living... he thought, and even ventured to poke the man with a claw to see if he really was real. The feeling of resistance that only flesh could create settled it for the warrior: the softskin really had been brought back from the dead.

 

*Tcktck!* "It is alive!" Tak'we spoke in bewilderment, stepping away. "How?!" He turned to Rhaine and saw that she looked like she was ready to collapse soon. "Is winged-pointy ear alright?" he asked in a concerned tone.

 

 

 

Uh-oh. Time to go. Dri took off running through the crowd as the woman soon discovered the theft. The black-haired youth bumped into two men who looked like brothers, both with ale, and doubled the pace when the drinks tumbled to the floor. They're probably not going to like that. Definitely time to go!

 

Dri sprang out of the tavern and sprinted down the street, trying to lose the angry woman, and possibly angry men, and find a place to hide.

 

 

 

Kalin woke up groggily, a thought-dulling feeling pulsing through his entire body. His limbs were stiff and sore from hanging from the wall in chains. "Oh... damn...it....," he groaned as he raised his head and tried to straighten himself out. That was a mistake, as the movement opened up the wounds from the previous session of torture. "Aaaagh! Gods!" The elan let his head hang forward again, cursing his situation. He felt blood running down his back from the energy lash from the day before. Just bloody wonderful...

 

Ever since he had been captured by Saris and brought here, her personal desert home, instead of the Culler Enclave as she was supposed to, Kalin had undergone almost constant torture, each day bringing some form of agony. Heh, it's almost become a routine, he thought hysterically, 'Hello, Saris, what tortures do we have today?' Saris' sickeningly sweet voice played in his head. 'In the morning, we have a nice salt bath for wounds. Then, for lunch, a nice collection of burrowing, flesh-eating worms. During dinner, we have a nice session on the rack.' 'Oh joy!' he thought sarcastically, then shook his head softly. You black-hearted bi-

 

"Ah, Kalin, such impoliteness!" Saris pouted as she walked into his vision, interrupting the insult in his mind. " I thought you were raised to treat a woman with respect?" Kalin gave a sneer, or the closest one he could pull off; Zuir had used a jaw--breaker a few nights ago. Hope he burns in the Hells. "I apologize for that," he mumbled through bloodied lips. "I mistook you for a hell-spawned harlot. Oh, wait, you are a hell-spaw-- AAAGH!" Saris gave a wave and muttered a word, and cut Kalin off with a crushing wave of pain.

 

"How tiresome." Saris gave a discontented sigh and walked over to the only chair in the room and sat. "I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint you today, Kalin. I have a more important issue to deal with." She motioned towards the open doorway and a figure faded into view. Oh, bloody wonderful, Zuir again. The man, though less skilled in the use of psionic and magic in torture, knew more mundane techniques that were just as effective, and was easily as sadistic as a drow priestess. The foul man flashed a grin that was more like a grimace. Damn it, of course he's included in the link. "Zuir will be holding today's lessons for you."

 

She looked at the ithillid hunter and gave a stern, yet half-hearted command. "Don't bloody him up too much while I'm gone. I'd like to have some fun, too, you know?" With that, she began to turn and walk away, but Kalin couldn't let her leave with the last word. "Some way of repaying my mercy, Saris."

 

She stiffened at that remark, the mentioning of the duel they had had ten years ago, . Saris gave him a angry glare, bringing a smirk to the soulknife's face, then regarded Zuir. "Forget what I just said, Zuir," she said coldly. "Have yourself a good time." And left Kalin alone with the cold-blooded psychopath.

 

Oh, Kelemvor, please, just let me die instead..., Kalin prayed, as the new day of torture, and screaming, began...

 

 

Saris, despite her efforts in keeping a calm expression, couldn't help but smile as she took a sadist's pleasure in Kalin's screams. Not smiling now, are you? she thought, then moved on to her important work. She went into the main chamber, a massive room, specially built to focus magical energies. She approached the preserved dragon carcass that took up nearly half the room, magical runes marking it, the floor, and the walls, and touched the magical amulet she wore around her neck. Almost complete. She gave a satisfied nod. "Soon, my Lord Valthanarax." And so continued to prepare the ritual.

 

Edited by GrueMaster
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The room was engulfed in a dead silence. Ivan had to cover up his eye sockets as the Doomguide's spell was being cast. Once the spell was completed he realised he was clenching his eyelids. He opened them, only to see everyone in the room staring at him in awe. The former undead then gazed down upon his renewed hands and body. This is something he thought he'd never see again. His eyes were slowly filling with tears as he looked up again and meeting Kyran's gaze.

 

"H-how do I look?" said the warrior as he tried to smile but could barely do it.

 

"Alive." - replied the elf.

 

The two looked at each other for another second before Ivan lunged at the elf and gave him a brotherly bear hug.

 

"Ivan....you're...crushing....my bones.....can't....breahe" - wheased out Kyran with a face about to turn blue.

 

"Oh...sorry." Ivan loosened his grip on the skinny elf as he dropped to the floor. "...don't know my own strenght"

 

"No *cough* kidding"

 

Ivan then turned to Rhaine. "My Lady, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done. I owe you my life....literally" He then bowed, not knowing whet else to do.

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Rhaine straightened and nodded at Ivan, "You can pay me back by helping me fight the Cult of the Dragon," she glanced to Kyran, "and by promising me that no necromantic acts will ever be committed while you are in this group. As long as you hold to that, you are welcome to stay. You are lucky that some others of our order did not find you first."

 

Glancing to Tak'we, the Doomguide smiled, "I am all right, friend...just a little weary. I suggest everyone find a room and rest. We will be very busy during the next few days."

 

With that, she spun on her heel and left the room, moving down the hall to find one for her own. She did not look at Azuris as she passed him, more than a bit disappointed in him.

 

We're not all as devoted as you are, Chosen, he had told her back when they first met.

 

The more she thought about what he had said and done since then, the more she thought that his level of devotion was near zero.

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Nawen watched with her mouth open as Ivan from a walking skeleton became a living man again. She always knew that Rhaine was powerful but to do something like this and especially when he was dead for a decade as he told them moments before resurrection. "I wish I knew how to do that." She thought. "Seems like a useful skill to have."

 

"How does it feel to be alive again?" She couldn't help but ask.

==============================================

Shalena remained downstairs, completely oblivious to what just happened in one of the rooms. From drinking and chatting with the people that came from the near settlements for the tournament, the half-elf pirate switched to playing cards and so far she was winning.

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"Hey! I said stop you heathen!" Aurora rushed out of the tavern in pursuit of the hooded gentleman, rushing past the brothers whom the man had knocked, she nearly fell while slipping on spilt ale, but carried on nonetheless. Catching sight of the man rushing off into the street, she pursued, blade drawn and a look of anger apparent on her face.

 

-----

 

"My... I never thought I would see such a power in use. Consider yourselves either exceptionally lucky or blessed by the gods... Lady Rhaine is not so lenient in most cases, and shall certainly not be so in the future; I suggest you do as she requests, lest your existences be cut short." With that Xallistine too turned and walked from the room.

 

----

 

"Your coffin? Ah, yes they'll take care of that." She said hurriedly, gesturing back to the wardrobe as she rushed from the bedroom. "I must contact my Lord, Quarylene... prepare yourself and await me near my throne, we shall see to the death of a priestess of two."

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"How does it feel to be alive again?" She couldn't help but ask.

 

"It's hard to describe. It feels...amazing, like I've been shackled for years and have just been released from my prison." - replied the newly ressurected Ivan, still not used to having a full body again.

 

As everyone was leaving Kyran and Ivan's room, going back to what they were doing, walked over to Rhaine.

 

"My Lady, there appears to be another misunderstanding about my affiliations with necromancy. You see, I don't really practise it, so much as I study it. Infact the only things I've ever risen from the dead are rats, lizards and other such small animans, and that was years ago. While I do know a veriety of necromantic spells, I assure you I have not, and will not be using them. And before I forget - thank you for helping my friend. He's the reason I began studying necromancy in the first place, in hopes of doing what you just did. I am in your debt as much as Ivan is."

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*Tck!* Tak'we gave a concerned click. "If clutch-mate saysss sso." He gave another puzzled look at the now-living softskin, glowered at Kyran, then left and went back downstairs to finish his meal. The thri'kreen gave an exasperated hiss when he noticed that someone had stolen his food. His temper simmering, he ordered another meal and sat there mumbling to himself while waiting for it to arrive. "Softskinsss..."

 

 

Dri finally saw an abandoned alley and nearly dived into it to escape the now-very angry woman chasing after her. Making sure no one could see her, she began to change back to her usual appearance. Come on! Become me again. Become Audri! She imagined herself changing back into a familiar form, that of her preferred female appearance. Her hair grew out and turned red. A woman-like figure replaced the young man's. Eyes turned back to green and blue eyes. Cheek bones reshaped...

 

Within a few breathes, Dri had completely transformed from young man back into a woman. Confidant that she was back to normal, she rearranged her clothes, flipped her cloak so that a different color showed, and adjusted her scarf to different position. I hope this works, she thought, waiting for the woman to come around the corner any moment now.

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Rhaine half-turned and addressed Kyran, "Any evil, however small, is still evil. Druids and rangers would argue for an animal's spirit, even if we Doomguides might not. But I thank you for being forthcoming with the information. And as I have said, you may repay me by helping me fight the spread of necromancy in the future."

 

She began to walk away again, but then thought of something, "Oh, and Kyran? Tell Ivan not to go overboard in celebration. It will take his body some time to get used to functioning once more...and we don't want him ruining his second chance, so to speak. Also, if he finds that he needs to speak with me for council concerning his new life, he is more than welcome. Such a change tends to cause spiritual unrest, at least for a time."

 

With that, she took her room at the end of the hall and locked the door behind her.

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"Welcome back, I guess." Nawen said wondering if what she just said was the right choice of words or not. Shrugging, she went to her room and locked the door behind her. Her little wolf, Rhegar jumped on the bed and looked at her and wagged his tail.

 

"I wish you could come to the fair with me," She said as she took her cloak off and folded it neatly, "but you're too small, you might get lost or worse..." the drow looked back at Rhegar and saw that he was listening, attentively even.

 

"I'll ask Conall tomorrow about Fenrir. Maybe you could stay with him." She said as she approached her little friend and scratched him behind the ears. "You like Fenrir, do you?" In reply, Rhegar wagged his tail some more.

 

"Thought so." Nawen said with the warm smile on her face.

 

Exactly twenty minutes later, Nawen fell asleep thinking how lucky she was to have found Rhegar.

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